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Feb 2018
how am I expected to love one,
without even considering the other,
pretend you’re not important, a no-one,
you’re my father and she is my mother.

I know that what you did wasn’t right
you had a wife, two daughters,
yet you did it despite.
a phycological game, I hope never a fight.
why did you run away
at the stoke of midnight?

you did the unthinkable
now to save your conscience,
your memories are all fictional,
your actions towards my mother
are far from forgivable.
you tore through her confidence
forever feeling she is invisible.
alone with two young daughters
those years for her were miserable,
yet you still believe you were a father
your parenting was mythical.

not to say that your life has been kind
you fought in a war,
lost a friend in the blink of an eye.
PTSD forever haunting your soul,
you knock back a box of wine,
few beers before your midday stroll,
self medicating your entire life
to stave off those memories
and what you did to your wife.

it goes deeper than that I am sure,
a lifetime of damage
that you have had to endure,
that is why I see a man
who deserves my attention
because I do not turn my back
on another human needing an intervention.

I understand why most don’t agree,
you were a monster, a controller
my mother drowning in the dead sea.
you’re arrogant and unpleasant
but you truly care about me.
underneath your exterior layer
I believe there to be,
a man gently crying
sheltering behind the carefree.


I am trying my best to be more honest
so I don’t live out my life after my father
whose lying is spectacularly flawless
so I do not see why I should lie to you
I want a relationship because
I am scared of what you might do
a vulnerable man, I am too empathetic
I feel sorry for you,
it is not purely genetic.

it’s a sad circumstance
for a woman of my age
trying to break through her father’s exterior
and enter an unexplored cage
to break free the humanity that I believe is left
and release you from the uncertainty
what you are heading towards is death.
I am planning on visiting my father at the weekend, while my mother has just gained the courage to seek help for the phycological trauma he put her through during their marriage. I find myself torn between enlightening him on what he has done and saving him from his instability by playing along with the delusional world he has created for himself. I am forever being told I am too kind to people who do not deserve it, but there are circumstances where kindness is the only option.
This one is personal.
Written by
Hannah Cutler  22/Edinburgh
(22/Edinburgh)   
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